The Bitter Pill

Another bitter pill waits to be swallowed whole,
Exposing parts of the soul that shrink to the touch
of the calloused hands of an unkind fate
Into the emptiness of each bait-barbed experience
I thus open the door: reluctant, sullen, resentful.

There is another way:
To see beneath the restless swell of sea, a deep abiding calm that a thousand moons can hardly move.
To stanch the draining sap that saps my strength, by declaring it winter and moving ever inward.
To know that what is me is barely ever grazed by the scorching heat of guilty memories.
To witness in scars, the exacting toll of foolish journeys bravely undertaken

Yet, there is still.
This bitter pill.

Intelligence and Walt Whitman

In defense of pretending to be more intelligent than one is:

“In shallow lands does quartz abound,
And if that quartz like diamond gleams
Why dig deep and fool around
When one as bright as the other seems!”

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On the occasion of a friends wedding...

Oh Husband, My Husband (inspired by Walt Whitman)
Oh husband, my husband, the beautiful day has come
All wedding cards in proper place, all vendors paid their sum
The reception nears, the bells I hear, the guests are all exulting
While follow eyes, the steady walk, us hand in hand and beaming
But oh, heart! Heart! Heart!Tis as I feard, tis as they said
Where on the aisle my husband stands

Frozen with cold feet and dread

Oh husband, my husband, unfreeze lest you I kill!
On guard! At you the bouquet I fling, at you I scream so shrill
For you the cake - upon your face, see the aisles a-crowding
For your head they call, the swaying mass, and I feel like obliging
So husband, dear lover, with this hand squeezed on your neck
I implore you, that upon this aisle

Don’t make a choice you regret.

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A Response to Critics of Sonal Shah

One of the board members of Obama’s transition team, Sonal Shah, is being vilified by a small but vocal group as having ties to a right wing Hindu extremist organization. Does this have a ring of familiarity to it; a déjà vu of the run-up to the presidential elections? It is not the same group that attempted to defame Obama for his “extremist” ties with Bill Ayers and Rev. Wright, but it might as well be. Because there is a common strain here: a chilling narrowness of purpose that does not care to understand complexities of human interactions, nor be bothered by the details of the evidence presented, before declaring a verdict in service of their overzealous beliefs.

The evidence posted starts by bestowing upon Sonal all of her father’s associations and the osmotic consequences thereof. To point out the obvious: Sonal does not have the luxury of choosing her parents and their associations. Anyone with a working knowledge of Indian culture knows that striking a balance between fulfilling the commitment to filial duty, while simultaneously rejecting beliefs which may well be outdated, unfounded, or egregious is a balancing act; the success of this juggling act is unverifiable by most outsiders. And if the associations of one’s family is to be a measuring stick, I submit that no-one in this country is deserving of office, for who here can claim a family devoid of their share of dubious associations?

The next evidence focuses on Sonal’s personal involvement in these organizations. They speak of her membership in the VHP in 2001, but fail to mention that this was motivated by the devastating earthquake in Kutch, a relief effort she headed as a response to the rallying of the local Gujarati community. They speak of an award for community service she received from the state of Gujarat, along with Ratan Tata, Mukesh Ambani, and Dr. Dinesh Patel, which she was not there to receive, which was delivered to her brother by India Prime Minister Vajpayee, who belongs to the BJP, the party whose Gujarat branch chief minister is Narendra Modi, who was indicted for state sponsored violence, and who was present at the award. (I hope you are following the chain of this extremely tenuous logic). Finally, the third connection is that of a volunteer organization that she founded, Indicorps, of which I was a part. The objection here is that one of the ninety service projects Indicorps has completed to date (including projects in Muslim, Christian and Hindu communities, check out http://www.indicorps.org/ ) was with Ekal Vidyalay, a tribal education project funded by the VHP. If you have been paying careful attention, there is one common thread running through these associations. Community service, community service, and community service.

And this brings me to the real error of Sonal’s ways. It is this:
Sonal’s foolish idealistic belief, that bridges can be built, that somewhere hidden within the worst of our fears; she can uncover the best in us. Her downfall has been that she doesn’t refuse to engage with the community, especially in the context of service. Most of us come from a world view where it is most convenient and expedient to shut out those we profoundly disagree with. And from that point of view it is impossible to understand why the Sonal’s and Obama’s of this world would “pal” around with a group that we see in black and white, why they would engage with them, have anything to do with them. But then again, the world today does not belong to us of narrow visions, but to those others of grand aspirations; those who know how to build inroads into the narrowest minds and hardest hearts – it would be tragic for that road to be paved with yet another casualty of divisive hatefulness. This madness has to stop.

And I am not the only one who is irked. Around the world, people who actually know her and have worked with her are rushing to her defense. ( http://wetware.blogspot.com/2008/11/in-defence-of-sonal-shah.html )

Some Shakespeare Banter

Advocating the use of a bigger car for a whitewater rafting adventure (Kevin B.):
I think your steed, being of mighty girth,
Might lend itself more fairly to the task:
To squeeze five persons as twins joined at birth,
Who venture forth in white water to bask

Response:
Well spoke, good and steadfast friend of mine
For thy teacher's role, I thank thee much,
And what of this here humble rhyme:
Dost thou think it hath magic touch?

Response (Lisa W.)
Most impressed am I, for thine wit is fast,
i shall be most eager whilst in thine steed,
to hear exchange of clever minds doth thou hast,
Inspiring praise and adulation resounding as "sheed!"
-----

Inquiring about weekend plans:
Where art thou naughty imp?
What mischief abounds this end-of-week?
Surely some nefarious scheme
Up thy sleeve hast thou in keep.

I doth diggeth the Williamesque charm of ye old English tongue. Forsooth, ne'er a sentence can I write in its righteous form. Tis but a passing sorrow, for far better to write wrongly and have writ, than wrongly not write for fear of being not right. And yet, I doth fear being right, e'er since strumpet Palin hath entered the fray for kingdomship.

With this I bring to hasty end
Word-play which I do defend.Response (Kevin B.)
Tis most excellent indeed -
With your leave I would use your prose in class
As an example to behold for all
For truly you have answered Shakespeare's call

Response
Of course you have my leave, good K
For you leave no stone unturn-ed
In showing the Shakespearian way
To those who wish to be learn-ed!

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On Avastin vs. Lucentis:
Antoinette's "no bread? Eat cake!"
Missive didst roundly dismiss
Her subjects, and is re-incarnate
As "No Avastin? take Lucentis!"

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On women (Kevin B.)
The fairer sex is most unfair indeed,
For in affairs of love I fare not well:
The most fair of them will not speak to me
Except perchance they say "Fare thee well";
So fie upon it, what a fare to pay!

On Sarah Palin

“Those who do not learn from history, are bound to repeat it” - George Santayana

And what if one is unencumbered by the lessons of history, nay, unencumbered by history altogether? Well, then one has a running shot at the vice-presidency. Of her many areas of ignorance, Palin’s most egregious head-in-the-sand moment was when Gibson of ABC news asked her about whether she agreed with the Bush Doctrine. Her response: “In what respect?” and later, more a question, than a statement, “His world view?” Embarrassingly, Gibson had to explain to Palin the doctrine of preemptive strike and the policy of going to war with any nation suspected of harboring terrorists. Here she was displaying unabashed ignorance of the defining policy of this decade; meanwhile, predictably, the conservative media giving her props for grace under pressure, calling Gibson’s unduly harsh. Perhaps they were hoping we would crown her pageant queen yet again based on something other than her grasp of politics?

Let me get to the point. Actuaries are bandying words over whether McCain’s chances of kicking the bucket this term are 15% or 30%. But this “heartbeat” away argument is only part of the picture. In a post-Cheney White-House, the vice-presidency has become more than a titular position….much more. The president doesn’t have to keel over, in order for the VP to exert significant influence over the politics of our nation.

So, who shall we pick for this position? How about a regular next door, caribou-huntin’, gun-totin’, pro-lifin’ average Jane. Yes, lets! Because intelligence and education and common sense are nothing but elitist concepts created by those heathen others.

And now for some choice quotes from Palin to prove my point:
“Our national leaders are sending U.S. soldiers on a task that is from God…there is a plan, and it is God’s plan”. Sound to you like a jihadist, yet?

In her acceptance speech she spoke of Obama: “This is a man who can give an entire speech about the wars America is fighting, and never use the word ‘victory’ “.
A response for you, dear Palin: Perhaps that is because most persons of average intelligence recognize that chest-thumping shows of bravado and cries of victory are no substitute for the hard work of diplomacy and good sense. Of course, you can be forgiven for not knowing the way of diplomacy in Iraq, after all unlike Russia, Iraq is not visible from Alaska, so how could you know??

In that same speech (which was very low on substance and high on bile) she spoke condescendingly of Obama: “What exactly does he seek to accomplish after he’s done turning back the waters and healing the planet!”

Again, Gov. Palin, you’re missing the point. Turning back the waters and healing the planet is pretty much it. Sorry to disappoint, but there are no unnecessary wars to wage, no gays to convert, no books to ban, after the healing is done. I know, I know…it just doesn’t have the right ring of...what’s the word…patriotism you may be seeking, and it is disarmingly simple, and no, it doesn’t get a crowd quite as unintelligibly neurotic, but really there is nothing more we want from our leaders – just that they act sensibly and make us all happier. It’s a hard concept, is it?

Finally, about those charges of sexism, for the record, let’s be real clear: Your womanhood is a double-edged sword. While gender has kept many women from high office, your pretty face is sadly an idiotic draw for viewers and voters – and don’t think for a moment that your party did not know this or aren’t going to exploit it – but you no doubt find that quite tolerable. And yet, the burden of a black man’s skin runs in one and one direction alone in this country. Ever heard of a black man getting a free drink, because he was such a fine specimen of blackness? No, neither have I. And so, while you distract everyone with your gender card, the real man bearing his burden with grace is Obama. Now that is a pig you can’t put lipstick on.

The Audacity of a Vote

I walk into the polling booth at 6:00pm – a large non-descript recreation room - one of the hundreds that criss-cross the county. Two tables are arranged on either side of the room. I raise a quizzical eyebrow at the 1st poll worker that catches my eye. She asks for my address then directs me to the other side of the room. There I am asked yet again: “Street address?” I reach into my pocket to get my ID, as I repeat “Carter Drive”.
“And your name is…?”
I tell her my name, hands still in pocket, waiting to be asked for a form of identification. None is requested. Instead she asks me to sign my name in a log book.
“Ok, she say’s, I see you’re registered as an independent – what party will you be voting with today?”
I mumble “Democrat”. Another poll worker punches some numbers in, procures a slip of paper, and points me to the nearest booth, a getup that looks at first glance, quite like one of those old movie camera contraptions, complete with dark black cloth ominously draped over the top. The ballot machine is a strange device with a rudimentary Ipod-like click-wheel technology (perhaps a 1st generation prototype that was discarded by Apple, and quickly snapped up by San Mateo County?)
Turn, turn, click. Click…turn…click click. Turn click. Yes. And I’m done.

The entire thing takes less than 10 minutes.

I walk out into the cold, head held visibly higher, feeling a sudden and foolish desire to burst into strains from “Star Spangled Banner”. I indulge myself. I notice another lady, 30-something, with her elementary schooler in tow. She has just stopped by before a school event to vote. It is just another day for her.

Driving home, NPR is full of election coverage, counting the votes and calling victories, state by state. I find myself listening intently…about voter turnouts, wins and losses, and some glitches at certain voting locations. At one level I care very very deeply about my candidate and the issues represented by them, and I desperately want him to win. But it strikes me, that at another level it is hardly important. I have exercised a right, so fundamental to our way of life, and I can’t fail to notice how momentous it is, in of itself.

Growing up in India, even when I was not eligible to vote, I remember hearing about booth-hijacking, places where a group of party affiliates would stand outside and intimidate you into voting a certain way, or even worse, cast the vote in your name. This was IN a democratic country – leave aside the severe disenfranchisement of the common people in non-democratic countries. It is easy to forget that what here in the US is business as usual, is in most parts of the world, a historic, often all too rare an event. My candidate may win or lose, but I know in my heart that today, the real victors are We, the People.

A Challenge to Writers

There is this:
A creative itch I need to scratch
A wish I pitch, which if you match

Creates anew, a challenge for you

To write, take flight with words as wings

Crash-land; hold hands with foreign things
An all out attack, no turning back.
Swarm with sentences, jab with zest
Pens as swords, that you may best
Disarm the calm, disturb the peace
Turn tables on your complacent beliefs
Sneak up on your mind, from behind
With grace feline, for a ten minute time

Then:
Take stock of the stack
(Don't dare stick it in the trash)

And:
Placidly place your papers for public perusal
Any questions?